Garden of Sinners
by Shinigami-cat
Summary: Adalet, a city full of corruption and filth. From this place anti hero's are bound to appear. Whether they choose to fight human evil or evil of the supernatural kind it's all up to the demons they need to face. The story of three anti-hero's and their lives as they balance their powers, lives and inner evils.
1. Prologue

**Shinigami-cat: **Well here's another story… I have been reading way too many Dark Horse Comics, Marvel and DC lately. I blame all those for this little story… screw it. Knowing me it'll be a long story… I OWN NOTHING!

**Summary:**

**Adalet, a city full of corruption and filth. From this place anti hero's are bound to appear. Whether they choose to fight human evil or evil of the supernatural kind it's all up to the demons they need to face.**

**Warnings:**

**Mild to graphic horror, swearing, possible yaoi and all the stuff you've all come to expect from me.**

**Garden of Sinners**

**Prologue**

_A Native American elder once described his own inner struggles in this manner: Inside of me there are two dogs. One of the dogs is mean and evil. The other dog is good. The mean dog fights the good dog all the time. When asked which dog wins, he reflected for a moment and replied, The one I feed the most."_

_George Bernard Shaw_

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I never meant for everything to get out of hand like this. Things just happened and I don't know how or why. I guess I was just unlucky or maybe I was lucky. Depends on how you look at things I guess…

I grew up in New York. In one of the better parts of city too. My family was upper middle class so we were well off. My mother was a nurse and often worked from midday to midnight so I didn't see much of her and my father worked shifts so I could see him one week and then I wouldn't for a week.

It didn't really matter though because my parents were happy. I was happy. We were happy. At least I always thought we were. Things took a turn for the worst when I was in my first year of high school.

Turns out my father was cheating with some stereotypical blond haired, big boobed, tiny waisted woman that was half my father's age. From there things got bad. Really bad.

They both started to use guilt tactics on me to get me to choose who I would stay with. In the end I got scared and ran away to live with my Aunt in Adalet city. I was really freaked out for a long time. I'm just thankful that my Aunt won custody.

Since that time I've been afraid. Afraid of what exactly, I don't know. All I know and remember is just that horrible nagging feeling. Like an axe hanging over my head. I ignored it for a long, long time. That was until my senior year at high school.

I was a pretty popular guy in high school. I guess I just had a personality that people just gravitated towards. I was pretty naïve back then and didn't realize that more then a few of the girls were head over heels for me. This gave me problems with bullies. Jocks to be precise.

It started out pretty tame; a name here and there and the occasional shove in the hallway. Then it got so much worse… A jock that was sure I was sleeping with his girlfriend cornered me in the locker room and I killed him.

That's right. I killed him. I didn't mean to and according to the official reports he died of a heart attack. He just pushed me against a locker, punched me and made me look into his eyes as he called me out and called me a playboy and all other things.

When he did that I just snapped or something. I looked into his eyes, I was so scared but I could see he was scared too. Scared of… spiders. I don't know how I saw that but I did. Next thing I knew everything went black and he died. I made up some story for the police when they found out. They said it looked like he was scared to death.

After that I started to see fear in everyone's eyes. Just a second of eye contact was all it took and if I concentrated hard enough, I soon learnt I could actually become that fear. I was like Pennywise from that Steven King book, IT. I could become anyone's fear and their fear made me stronger and able to stay in the form of their fear for longer.

After high school I ended up working in a coffee shop in one of the more "Hipster" parts of the city. I don't often use my powers and the need doesn't arise often anyway. The only times I use it are when I see people getting hurt and attacked by others.

I guess I'm a hero of sorts or maybe an anti-hero because I occasionally scared thugs to death. I swear it's all unintentional, but it brought the attention of the police and now I'm like some kind of murderer or a Robin Hood figure. I have no idea what I am anymore, but at least the general public have given me an alias. Fear.

I know, my origin story is pretty terrible. Not even a main nemesis or anything. I'm just a guy in this city. I live. I breathe. I pay taxes. I avoid getting caught by the police. My name is Antonio Fernandez and I am Fear.

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I guess things could have been worse for me. I came from money. Blue bloods if you would. From a young age I have always been given and shown the finer things in life; clothes, food, school, entertainment… My parents denied me nothing.

I must admit, I guess it was there way of making up for not really being there for me growing up. I don't think they ever wanted a kid. It never really seemed to fit in with their perfect, elitist lifestyle. Perhaps they should have invested in better birth control?

Anyway, my grandmother was the only one that payed much attention to me. Besides her, I kind of melted into the background. I felt like a ghost most of the time. I was there, but I wasn't. People noticed me when they wanted to.

When they did notice me, it was for material reasons. Mainly just admiring me and telling me how wonderful I and my family are. It's disgusting. I'd rather be a ghost then seen as someone to be manipulated.

So, just to spite my parents I became a private detective instead of a manager of some stupid company. To be honest I really like the work. It's nice to do something where you help lots of people instead of being the boss of a company and making cost cutting choices.

Needless to say my parents were displeased with me, but thankfully my grandmother wasn't. As a present she gave me a large sum of money, a pendant and told me to get as far away from my parents as possible.

As a result I moved to Adalet. It was a good thing too. As it turns out this place was and is still riddled with crimes and evils here that need someone to help change it. Sure, the police force is competent and all, but they lack in some important areas… specifically corruption. Corruption is a big problem. I guess that's why they got on my case for taking on a little kidnapping case which resulted in me almost getting killed.

It was the most amazing thing really. I was confronting the kidnapper and he shot me, but the bullet went straight through me, like I was made of air. Even more incredible, I could pass through objects. After incapacitating the kidnapper and helping the child get back to their family I decided to find out the source of this power.

My search didn't take too long as I found out it was the pendant my grandmother gave to me. I had called her and confided in her what had transpired. In return she told me the truth about the family's heritage.

Apparently my family has a dark and secret history in black magic. It used to be extremely strong, but after a few hundred years the magic is all but gone and appears every few generations. To amplify our powers we need to use magic objects. Which was the pendant my grandma gave me. Hoe she knew I would make use of it, I don't know.

Thanks to the pendant I have become some what of a mystery to the Adalet P.D. It makes me happy that they are paying attention and actually following me so they can solve horrific crimes. Because of my actions, the A.P.D has given me a name. Ghost.

I guess my origin story is a little over used. A man trying to beat the corrupt system by becoming a defender of the weak and what not. Oh well, I could be doing worse things with my life. My name is Francis Bonnefoy and I am Ghost.

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I am lost as fuck. Seriously, I have no real clue where I am… Sadly I am saying that a heck of a lot more then I used to. It wasn't always like that. Things used to be different. So very, very different.

I grew up in a small Germanic village. It was a pretty easy and peaceful life for about twenty seven years; just doing the normal things from day to day really on the family farm. Everything went perfectly until I died.

It was a normal day. I was minding the sheep in the paddock and the next thing I knew a huge wolf had its jaws around my neck and ripped out my throat. Blood went everywhere and I died in a matter of minutes.

It was in that moment I fell in love. I know, sounds kind of morbid and stuff, but it's true. I fell in love with someone so dark and dangerous but still charming and beautiful. Sadly I wasn't with them for very long as I was thrust back into the world of the living fully healed from my ordeal.

After that I tried to live a normal life, but I stopped aging and my family and the villages became suspicious. I even died in front of my brother and I came back to life. After that I had to run and I have been running for a long time.

I'm not too sure what I am anymore. Undead? Immortal? Cursed? I guess it doesn't matter too much. I don't age. I don't die. I just live and keep on living. Boring, but whatever. I kept myself busy by doing some mercenary work for some people and after a while my love started to talk to me again.

My love would whisper things into my ear and tell me who to kill and how. I probably sound like a sociopath, but I swear I'm not. I'm just a real romantic at heart, or maybe I just like tilling people or something. I'm a freak like that.

It was around that time I discovered I had an enemy. Some big, strong silent guy with one fucker of a sword. For some reason that fucking weapon is the only thing that can kill me or at least harm me a lot. I have more then my fare share of scars from it. My love has no idea how to kill that fucker or even who that fucker is.

After many years of this I ended up in some place called Adalet city. A total shit storm of a city if you ask me. There's nothing but evil in every part of this place. I love it here. My love likes it here too. There's even a beautiful cemetery there.

For the time being I've decided to take a job at some magazine place. Because I don't age I'll have to leave soon, but at least with stuff like plastic surgery I can stay around for a few years longer.

Anyway, when I'm not working for money to pay for food, starving to death sucks, I wander the city and do the bidding of my love. I probably sound like some mind warped and hopeless romantic. Fuck that shit I'm not.

Sadly my actions have brought the attention of the A.P.D. Those pigs have no right butting into my business. It's not like I actually kill people, well I don't most of the time… It's too long and complicated to understand right away with so few words.

Look, the point is the A.P.D. thinks I'm a dick and they think I'm some kind of freak because they have shot me before, in the face. Specifically my fucking nose, eye, forehead and in the fucking heart. I just keep coming back so they call me a zombie. I like it.

I guess my back story is fucking awesome. Of course it is. It is my story of course. My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt and I am Zombie.

**TBC**

**Shinigami-cat: **Well that was a little bit of back story for my Anti-heros.


	2. New Day

**Shinigami-cat: **His guys, well here's the next chapter I hope you all like it. Also I am a big fan of Deadpool so yeah I have kind of modelled Gilbert after him a little and by a little I mean kind of a lot, but he still different from Deadpool XD… I OWN NOTHING!

**New Day**

The thick smell of smoke saturated the grey, water damaged apartment. The tenant, a balding fat man, sat in his patchy leather chair. With his TV dinner on his lap, he watched the news with contempt.

There was the usual horrific news, sprinkled with little gems of positive news and fluff pieces. The most publicized news this night was about a string of brutal and random killings that had been happening for months. Everyone was a target for this person; drug dealers, shop owners, bankers, middle class men, CEOs. It didn't seem to matter to this person at all.

It made people scared. Really scared. They couldn't do anything about it and it didn't seem like the police could either. They didn't seem to be any closer to finding this psycho. There were no links to the crimes at all.

A sudden knock at the door made the man look up from his school lunch like meal. With a grunt, the man slowly got to his feet and plodded over to the door, wiping gravy off his stubbled chin. With a snort he walked to the door and looked through the peep hole.

Meeting his gaze was a man in the hallway clad in a mix of black leather and black cotton. His face was obscured by his hoodie. It made the man more then a little uneasy.

"What the fuck do you want?" The man at the door looked up at the peep hole. Grinning from the hallway was a man in a Richard Nixon mask. The unease in the mans chest quickly twisted and turned to something much worse. "Get out of here or I'm calling the cops!" Looking around his apartment, the man quickly grabbed his mobile and started to press buttons. "Hear that? I'm going to call them!"

He quickly looked through the peep hole. To his fortune, the man in question had gone. With that in mind he lingered a little longer at the peek hole. Long enough for a knife to shatter the glass, splinter the wood and penetrate the soft tissue of his eye.

With a cry of pain the man pulled back, falling onto his fattened backside. At the same time the masked man kicked down the door and walked inside, pulling his knife out of the door. With his knife in hand he advanced to the bleeding fat man on the floor.

Said fat man had started to plead with his attacker. "I don't have any money! Just take whatever you want! Take anything you want!"

The masked mans words were slightly muffled, but clear enough. "I'm not here for your shit."

"Th-then what?"

A haunting sound came from the masked man. Presumably some form of laughter. It sounded like the howl of a predator. "I'm here for revenge so some souls can get some rest. You know what I'm talking about don't you?"

The man frantically shook his head, clutching at his mangled eye. "I-I have no idea what you're talking about! I haven't hurt anyone! No one who mattered!"

The masked man delivered a swift kick to the mans stomach, winding him. "No one that mattered? Everyone fucking matters you sick fuck. All human life matters." He crouched down next to the man, running the tip of his blade over the man's exposed skin. "It runs its course and sometimes it's cut short. When it's cut short souls can't rest and won't pass on. Did you really think you could murder those three prostitutes with no consequences at all?"

The man slowly shook his head in disbelief. "No way… There's no way you could know about that… That was years ago…"

"The dead never forget and they never forgive either." He pressed the sharp edge of the blade against the man's neck. "I'm going to enjoy skinning you alive you fat, disgusting, sadistic freak!"

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Morning had only just started to spread over the city when the police established crime scenes A, and B. A being the primary crime scene and B being the secondary. The police had long grown tired and accustom to the sudden murders. Things had been set up long before Francis had shown up, much to the disappointment of one particular officer.

Francis showed up to the crime scene, coffee in hand. He casually sipped it as he walked past the standing officers, flashing his credentials as he walked. He casually made his way to the apartment of the deceased.

He was greeted a door down by the police chief and his brother. With a smile, Francis approached them. "Good morning gentlemen. Nice to see it isn't pouring down with rain again."

The police chief, a red headed man with a smoking habit, chuckled a little at the others remark. It was odd that this man, Scott Kirkland, had become the police chief so quickly in his carrier. Then again with the high mortality rates for the A.P.D it didn't come as a huge shock.

"Nice to see you in high spirits today." Said Scott in his gruff voice. "Starting to think you weren't going to show up." He nudged his brother in the ribs. "Turn that frown upside down. We might actually be able to crack this case and put away that Zombie."

His brother, a blond with acid green eyes, glared at Scott. "I doubt someone like him could find anything we haven't already found."

"Shut up Arthur and give him a walkthrough of the crime scenes." Snapped Scott as he quickly produced a cigarette out of his pocket. He took a long drag and sighed. "Fucking job's going to be the death of me…" Amused by the brothers antics, Francis took a step back and gestured for Arthur to show him where the murder took place.

Begrudgingly, Arthur walked towards the victims apartment with Francis close behind. "So, what happened to this person?" Asked Francis. "Why do you assume that it's Zombie?"

"You'll see…" Muttered Arthur. "Anyway, the victim one, Markus Duphrene and he's all over the place… and his arm is on the street…"

"Death by dismemberment?" Queried Francis.

"If it actually is Zombie it'll be death by lung cancer or a brain tumour or a heart attack or something." Francis wished to question Arthur more on this, but decided to wait. There would be time for questions later.

Upon entering the apartment a chill seemed to wash other Francis. The body had been moved, but the blood was still everywhere. The largest pool being the one on the floor and the lower hand of the adjacent wall. Apart from the obvious blood splatter there was obvious signs of a struggle and knife marks in the wall.

"So what do you think?" Asked Arthur.

Francis frowned a little as he looked all around the room. "Let's see… from first glance I'd say the attacker knocked on the door and stabbed Duphrene in the eye and kicked in the door." He gestured to the broken door frame and the people removing the door from the crime scene.

"Then what, oh great detective?" Asked Arthur sarcastically.

Ignoring the other's tone, Francis continued with his analysis. "Well, without examining the body I won't know for sure, but after the body was mutilated or something the attacker left out the window… No…" He walked over to the window and frowned a little. "Someone else broke in… There was a fight and they both escaped… That would explain the knife marks and the unusual blood splatter…"

"Good. You now have advanced to the rank of Cludo detective." The arrogant tone in the other's voice was as thick as the officer's eyebrows.

Francis just sighed and looked out the window. "I assume that would be the secondary crime scene down there?"

"Yep." Muttered Arthur. "Still sweeping the area to make sure we don't miss anything…"

"I see… So what would categorize this as the work of Zombie?" Asked Francis. It could have potentially be anyone.

"Kiku can fill you in on that one." Said Arthur calmly. He looked over at a rather skinny looking forensic expert. His short black hair, only just touched the top of the glasses he worse. "Kiku, tell this so called detective why we know it's Zombie."

Kiku nodded a little and quickly walked over to the pair. He quickly adjusted his glasses as he looked over the notes he had made. "Well, Mr Bonnefoy, the team down at the forensic lab have determined that the cuts on Duphrene's bones have been made by the same weapon that killed other people in the Zombie cases." He looked over his notes again, nodding a little to himself. "The brutality of the murder is also part of Zombie's style… that and the seemingly random choice of victims."

"Enough conformation for you?" Asked Arthur. The Arrogance in his voice seemed to be never ending.

Choosing to be the adult in this situation, Francis simply smiled and nodded politely. "Thank you Kiku. This will help with my own private investigation. Perhaps once your team is done with the autopsy you could leave a report on the chief's desk?"

"I will do that." Said Kiku before he went back to his work.

Francis smiled happily at Kiku's polite manner and decided that now was the time for him to leave. "Well, I'm off now."

"Seriously? You've only been here for a few minutes." Muttered Arthur. "Have more important things to do?"

"Why yes, I do." Cooed the detective as he left the apartment. "I haven't had my coffee today." As he left the building he could hear Arthur complaining very loudly about "lazy" and "difficult" detectives. Those names just made Francis smile. He enjoyed annoying Arthur way too much.

Francis walked down several streets until he was well away from the crime scene. Once he was far enough away he turned into a small alleyway and reached under his shirt, touching his pendent. Immediately he felt a torrent of cold rush through his body followed by a static-like tingle. After that he had become as clear as cling wrap. He was essentially, a ghost. With a small smile he drifted off back to his hotel, but not without stopping for some coffee first.

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A low sigh left Antonio's lips as he slowly set the tables in the small café. He had recently developed a theory that his boss really hated him or something. Antonio wasn't a morning person at all and the café opened at the inhumane hour of seven in the morning. In Antonio's opinion the world shouldn't exist before nine thirty.

Begrudgingly, he made his way around the counter and made himself the strongest cup of coffee he could to try and make it through to the afternoon. He drank the black liquid as fast as he could, cringing at the bitter taste. It might have just been easier to eat the coffee beans right from the pack.

"Still not a morning person I see." Chirped a rather happy voice. Looking up from his coffee, Antonio saw his cheerful friend and co-worker Alice. Her cat-like grin always managed to cheer him up a little.

"I still believe there shouldn't be a thing called mornings." Said Antonio. He tossed his empty paper cup into the bin. "How can you be awake at this time?"

"An alarm clock usually works for me." Said Alice happily. She walked over to the front door and started to unlock the folding door. "Anyway, just remember to try and look people in the eye when you talk to them today. You're a friendly guy, but you need to try and keep eye contact."

A nervous chuckle escaped Antonio's lips as he cleaned the coffee machine one last time. Eye contact was the last thing he wanted to do. The longer he looked into someone's eyes the quicker he was pulled into their fears. It felt like an invasion of privacy to him.

The only people he could look directly in the eye without seeing their fear was people that wore contact lenses or glasses or if their eyes were obscured by anything in general. Which in all honesty made his job pretty easy; considering most of the customers were hipsters and wore glasses ironically. He just didn't like the hipster trend of wearing glasses frames without any glass. There was no point and he hated them.

"You know me Alice. I'm just a big shy mess under all my smiles and laughter."

"Is that why you don't have someone special in your life?" She inquired, a hint of amusement laced her voice.

Before Antonio could answer her a customer walked in. "Um, you are open now, right?" He didn't look like their usual kind of customer. Too mainstream. He was wearing a suit and tie for crying out loud. The only thing notable about him would be his shoulder length blond hair, slightly stubbly chin and French accent.

Alice grinned her cat-like grin at the man. "Of course. I'm guessing you want something to go?"

The man chuckled a little and nodded. "Oui, I have so many places to be and such little time."

"Sure." Said Alice happily. "Just go over to Antonio and he'll make you whatever you want." After directing the man she went to make sure that the folding doors were properly secured.

The man smiled a little and went over to Antonio. "Double espresso."

Antonio nodded and started to make the man his drink, doing his best to avoid eye contact. As he made the beverage he heard the man strike up a conversation with Alice. Just usual small talk; exchanging names, talking about the weather, what they do for a living. They probably would have gone into more detail if Antonio hadn't finished the drink.

"That'll be seven fifty."

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After Duphrene had kicked the bucket, Gilbert quickly made his way home, only just getting there before the sun started to rise He climbed up the fire escape and slipped in through the window. Sighing in sweet relief and he pulled of the mask on his face and tossed it to the side.

With a frustrated sigh he collapsed onto his leather lounge and tried to forget what had just happened. It should have been easy. It should have been slow and painful. Instead it was rushed and sloppy. All because of that bulking behemoth that wanted to skin him alive.

"Damn that bastard…" Muttered Gilbert. "Stupid motherfucker…" He would have continues with his curses if Marilyn Manson's cover for the song "Sweet Dreams Are Made of This" hadn't started to play.

He looked up from his couch only to notice an almost phantom-like being messing with his radio. The being was pencil thin and shrouded in a thin silk cloth. After messing with the radio it slowly stood up, back popping as it moved swaging softly to the music.

A small smile graced Gilbert's face. "I thought you wanted to meet up at the graveyard? Though I must say, this is a very nice change from the usual. You should make more house calls."

"I just wanted to see you." Whispered the being. "I like seeing where you choose to spend your days living while you wait for my eternal embrace…"

"If you had told me you were coming over I would have cleaned up a little."

A playful chuckle escaped the being's throat at Gilbert's comment. "Love, I am used too much darker and depressing conditions then this. In all honesty I prefer you keep your place messy. It gives it more personality… Did you get into trouble with Silence again?"

Gilbert sighed again and flopped back down onto the couch. "Don't even go there… I just cut open that fat fuck when Silence decides to jump through the window and fillet me!" He whined. "It's not fair! I thought I dropped him off in the middle of the ocean…"

The being sighed softly as it glided over towards Gilbert, leaning over the couch. "You did, but I guess he escaped… Things like that happen."

Looking up, Gilbert could see the other's face clearly, even if it was devoid of the normal facial features. Instead a perfect and pristine ivory skull with empty ebony sockets was staring back at him. This was his love. The Grim Reaper.

Gilbert just smiled up at the skeleton. "Ja, I know… I just wish I could do something to get rid of him for a bit."

His love nodded a little, letting their fingers gently run through Gilbert's silver hair and caress his scalp. "I'll see what I can do for you my love… I'm not sure if I can promise you anything, but I'll do my best."

"Thanks sugar bones."

If the Grim Reaper had eyes they would be rolling at the silly pet name. "Anyway, thank you for giving that man hell before he died. Now the souls are satisfied and they will willingly come with me. You're getting better at this."

"All for you babe." Cooed Gilbert with a grin. "So... are you going to get going soon?"

"I have to. I have souls to collect."

"When can I see you again?"

The skeleton thought for a bit. "Let's see… Is Saturday good for you? We could meet at the cemetery and watch the moon and stars dancing in the dark… I might even give you a little job before then if you're okay with that."

Gilbert grinned. "Sure. You know I'd do anything for you. Just say the word and I'll do it."

"Your dedication and loyalty is appreciated and a quality I fail to see in many people these days." The skeleton leaned down and touched its teeth against Gilbert's forehead. "Until then I must bid you adieu." In the blink of an eye the figure and gone, leaving Gilbert alone in his apartment.

A low sigh left Gilbert as he continued to look up at the roof. He was tired. Dead tired. Maybe he could just down a few beers, pretend the world didn't exist and wait until Saturday. That would have been nice, but it was not meant to be. "… I have work today… Fuck."

**TBC**

**Shinigami-cat: **Yeah… Well that was that. Please review.


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